


when the world is on fire we'll be treading in the yard

by hanwritesstuff (hannahkannao)



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21870685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahkannao/pseuds/hanwritesstuff
Summary: Galo's had a poster of Kray Foresight on his bedroom wall for years.Tonight, he takes it down.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 4
Kudos: 138





	when the world is on fire we'll be treading in the yard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [owlinaminor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlinaminor/gifts).
  * Inspired by [crescendo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21728128) by [owlinaminor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlinaminor/pseuds/owlinaminor). 



Galo gets sent home first.

He doesn’t want to go home first, or really go home  _ at all _ , even though he doesn’t remember the last time he slept in a bed, let alone his own. There’s still so much to do, so many people who need help that taking even a second off feels like a waste of time. And what is he supposed to do at home, anyway? Sleep? He’s exhausted, of course he is, but after all this, how is he supposed to do anything but stare up at the ceiling just  _ thinking _ ?

But he’s never been good at saying no to Ignis on a normal day—he doesn’t want to think about how “normal” is going to mean something completely different from now on—and now he hasn’t slept in two days. Maybe more. He tries to argue, but the third time Ignis tells him to just go home, he gives in. 

By the time he finally pushes open the door to his apartment, he’s barely able to stand on his own two feet. Sitting in the worst traffic he’s ever seen when it’s pitch black outside didn’t exactly give him any energy, and a pretty big part of him doesn’t think it was worth it to leave at all. After all, if he wasn’t explicitly ordered to come home, he wouldn’t have. 

But he’s here now. He might as well eat something and lie in bed for a little while, even if he doesn’t end up getting any sleep. Which he won’t. 

He turns on the lights and grabs a granola bar from one of the kitchen cupboards on the way to his bedroom, stuffing the wrapper into his pocket along with all the other trash he’s been too busy to throw away. Come to think of it, he should really hit the shower before getting into bed, he’s probably filthy. No, scratch that, he’s  _ definitely _ filthy—

When he flips another switch and his bedroom light flickers on, his thoughts grind to a halt.

Kray Foresight’s face is smiling down at him from a poster on the wall, his eyes closed just like they always were and his face completely passive. Galo’s had the poster for years, and there are miniscule rips along the sides from moving it around and hanging it back up again, patched together by little pieces of masking tape on the back. Back when he first got it, he thought the stoicism on Kray’s face was something to be admired; it meant that even with all the pressure and everyone’s eyes on him, he was able to look past it and do what was best for everyone. Now that he knows the truth, what that stoic look on his face was really hiding... it’s different now.

Galo reaches up to take the poster off the wall, still taking care not to rip it more than he already has, despite everything. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with it, so he takes it back into the living room and sets it down on the couch. He’ll deal with it later, he just needs to  _ not _ have Kray’s eyes on him right now. 

Now that he doesn’t have that to bother him—at least, not directly—he lets himself flop onto the bed. He doesn’t close his eyes—again, he has no intention of going to sleep—instead opting to stare at the now-empty wall space. He doesn’t want to think about anything, because he doesn’t even know where to start. Between everything that’s happened to him in the past few days and everything that’s going to happen to him starting now, it’s all unfamiliar. 

He doesn’t realize he’s started to drift off until he’s opening his eyes again to someone knocking on his door. And they won’t stop. 

“Shit,” he mutters to himself, climbing out of bed as the banging on the door only gets louder. Who could it even be? It’s not like he gets many visitors, and it would be downright hypocritical for anyone from Burning Rescue to show up here now.

Out of everyone he expects to see at his front door, Lio Fotia wrapped in a Burning Rescue coat like a straitjacket with the other two Mad Burnish generals behind him is pretty damn close to the bottom of the list. 

“Took you long enough!” One of the other Mad Burnish— _ former _ Mad Burnish, Galo corrects himself—just groans, which doesn’t explain anything.

“...What are you doing here?” Galo asks. He’s not mad, not really, just very confused.

“We need someone to keep him under control,” the same guy——Galo thinks his name is Guiera—says, jabbing a thumb in Lio’s direction. “He’s going to get himself killed if nobody stops him.”

“I  _ said _ , I’m fine,” Lio not-quite-snaps. The coat he’s wearing is a few sizes too big and bundled around him like a burrito, and Galo wonders if he’s cold. 

“Try saying that again when you get hypothermia,” Guiera counters.

“And if you’re wondering how we found out you live here,” the third man says. Galo’s given up on trying to remember his name for now, he’s sure he’ll learn it soon enough. “One of your friends told us your address.”

Somehow, Galo isn’t as concerned about that as he probably should be. He should expect something like that from Lucia, and he wouldn’t put it past Aina, either. Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past anyone but Remi. 

“So, what do you think?” Guiera asks. “You wanna do us a favor?”

“Um, okay?” This is all moving way too fast for Galo to process, but who is he to  _ not _ help someone out when they need it? “Should I—“

“Just make sure he gets some rest and doesn’t do anything stupid.” Guiera grins, shoving Lio right into Galo’s chest and knocking both of them over before he slams the door shut behind him. 

It takes Galo a few seconds to realize that Lio fell directly on top of him, and by the time he puts that together, Lio’s already scrambling back to his feet.

“Dammit!” Lio grits his teeth and glares at the closed door. “Can they just  _ listen _ for once?”

He’s about to open the door again when Galo reaches out to grab his leg. “Hold on!”

“What?” Lio turns his glare on Galo, and Galo almost lets go. Almost. “What are you doing here, anyway? Aren’t you all about saving people?”

“They sent me home.” Galo shrugs, pushing himself up to his feet. “If I came back now, they’d just kick me out again.”

“So?” Lio frowns. “You’re going to let that stop you? They’re not here, no one would notice if you just left.”

Galo chuckles. He may be stupid, but he isn’t  _ that _ stupid. “I can see right through you.”

“Oh, really?”

“You just want me to leave so there’s no one to watch you.” Galo crosses his arms with a grin. “I like keeping my word when I can.”

Lio huffs. “Fine. But don’t expect me to stay very long.” He walks right past Galo and heads for the couch, only to stop dead in his tracks just as he’s about to sit down. “...What the hell is this?”

It takes Galo a second to remember, but it comes back: the goddamn  _ poster _ .

“I didn’t want it in my bedroom,” Galo tries to explain, knowing Lio probably won’t understand. Not like he was expecting him to. 

Whether he gets it or not—Galo can’t really tell—Lio just nods. “Understandable,” he says. 

Galo comes forward to take the poster in question off the couch and drops it onto the floor, with a little less care than last time. “Here, it shouldn’t be taking up a spot on the couch it doesn’t deserve.”

Lio almost laughs at that, sitting down on one of the corner cushions with stick-straight posture, just like always. The only thing that’s different is the coat that’s three sizes too big and has him all wrapped up like a burrito.

“You hungry?” Galo asks, before mentally slapping himself in the face because  _ duh _ , of course he’s hungry. “I’m not a five-star chef or anything, but I can make a mean grilled cheese.” He frowns. Maybe he wants something with more protein. “Or whatever you want, really. I can try.”

“Grilled cheese is fine,” Lio answers. 

“Alrighty!”

Galo rushes around the kitchen, grabbing all—well, both, plus butter—of the necessary ingredients, and Lio just sits there, perched on the couch, watching him. It’s not as weird as it could be. Hell, it’s not as weird as it probably should be. Somehow, they’re both here, in his apartment, talking like  _ at least _ casual acquaintances, comfortable with each other’s presence, when they were never actually friends. They started out as enemies and then skipped the friends stage entirely, jumping straight to...something else. Something else that felt like something more. Galo’s too tired to think about the specifics right now.

“What are you going to do with it?” Lio asks eventually.

“What?”

“The poster,” Lio clarifies. “Were you planning on keeping it?”

“I don’t know.” Galo sighs. “I need more time to think about it.”

“Fair enough.” Lio glances down at it one more time, and Galo wonders why he laid it down face-up. “It isn’t my place to judge.”

“Oh, you can judge me all you want,” Galo says, reaching down to grab a pan out of the cupboard and setting it on the stove. He doesn’t say the second part, the  _ I’ve been judging myself plenty _ part, but he’s sure Lio can hear it loud and clear anyway. 

“He was good at keeping up appearances,” Lio says, like it’s a completely normal skill to have, like singing or knitting or riding a bike.  _ Scarily good _ , Galo thinks. “I don’t blame anyone for falling for it.”

“I still feel bad about it, though!”

“That’s a good thing.” Lio scowls. “There are plenty of people out there who don’t.”

Galo looks up at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Kray was a symptom, not the illness itself,” Lio explains. “Him being out of the picture doesn’t cure anything. If people thought about the Burnish a certain way before, that isn’t going to change overnight.”

“Mm.” Galo nods along, not asking for any more details. He thinks he can put it together from here. “...Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

Except it kind of is. Galo doesn’t say that out loud, but he can’t help but think that if he’d only put everything together sooner, he would have been able to do something about it before the body count skyrocketed. There are still so many people missing, so many capsules that will be cranked open in the next few hours, few  _ days _ , containing only ashes. If he could have done something to prevent that, if he could have done something so one person is safe with their family instead of missing or injured or dead, he would have. Without question. And he was blinded by his loyalty to Kray for so long, willfully refused to see the signs that are so  _ obvious _ now, that he probably could have. 

“I just wish I could have done more,” he says. 

“...Me, too,” Lio agrees.

That’s why they’re both here, isn’t it? Because they want to do more so badly that someone felt the need to stop them. 

“You know what?” Galo grins. “I think I’m gonna get rid of the poster.”

Lio raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Yep.” Galo turns his attention back to the stove and grabs a spatula to flip the sandwich over. Browned but not quite charred to a crisp, just the way he likes it. “I think I’ll just feel guilty if I keep it around. Not sure what I’m gonna do, though. I don’t know if it deserves recycling.”

Lio chuckles at that for just a second before he regains his composure. “It might be cathartic to tear it up,” he offers.

“Maybe...” There’s one thought that’s lingering in the back of Galo’s mind, but he doesn’t want to bring it up, because he has no idea how Lio will feel about it. But then again, he doesn’t exactly have any other ideas. “Want to burn it?”

Lio stiffens, just as Galo feared he would, but just like every other sign of emotion he’s shown tonight, that disappears a moment later. “Why are you asking me? It’s your poster.”

“It’s like you said, it’s cathartic,” Galo says. “And besides, that way we don’t have to deal with taking out the trash.”

A crafty smirk starts to grow at the corners of Lio’s mouth, and this time, it stays. “You make a good point,” he says.

“Just let me finish the sandwich first.” Galo peeks under to see how well-done the other piece of bread is. Not quite done enough.

“ _ The _ sandwich?” Lio asks. “Are you making anything for yourself?”

“I’ll get there when I get there.” Galo shrugs. “And I had a granola bar earlier, that’s holding me over for the time being.”

When Lio stares at him, eyes narrowed, Galo thinks he’s going to nag him like a mom trying to get her kid to eat their vegetables, but he doesn’t say anything. And after a quick count of thirty, Galo checks the sandwich again and finds it perfectly done, scraping it out of the pan and onto a plate. “Do you want me to cut this?” He asks. 

Lio shakes his head without saying a word. 

That’s more than enough confirmation for Galo, who takes the plate and gracefully sets it down on the coffee table. “Bon appétit,” he says. 

“Thanks.” Lio doesn’t take his coat off to eat, doesn’t even unzip it. He just grabs the plate and holds it right under his chin with one hand, taking the sandwich with the other. He takes small bites, lingering on each one before swallowing and moving on to the next.

“Is it okay?” Galo asks. What if the way he likes it isn’t the way Lio likes it, and Lio actually hates it? 

“It’s good,” Lio says before Galo can worry about it any longer. “Crispy.”

“That’s good to hear.” Galo sits next to him on the couch and leans back. “Are you cold? I can turn on the heat.”

Lio looks offended at the mere thought of it. “No, this is fine.”

“Okay, just let me know.”

“Okay.” 

They sit there for a little longer as Lio finishes his sandwich, trying and failing to bite back strings of melted cheese before they get too long, and Galo can’t help but laugh. If Lio’s at all mad at him for that, he doesn’t say anything.

“You know,” Lio says eventually, “If we tear the poster into pieces and light them up one at a time, it’ll last longer.”

“That might just be the way to go,” Galo says. “And it’s safer to do it with small pieces, less risk of a bigger fire breaking out.” He grins. “How dumb would that be? A firefighter starting a fire in his own apartment. No one would ever let me live it down.” 

“...Do you have a lighter?” Lio asks, and Galo wonders if he’s ever had to ask that question before. 

“Yeah,” Galo answers. He hasn’t used it for a while, hasn’t felt the need to because his apartment is too far away from the FDPP to host birthday parties, but he still has it. 

Lio takes the last bite of his sandwich, putting the cleared plate back on the coffee table. “Then I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Alright.” Galo sucks in a breath before he picks the poster up off the floor. He stares at Kray’s face, looking almost regal, and doubts himself for a split-second that lasts an eternity, but before he can spend too much time thinking about it, his hands are reaching out to tear the poster in half, splitting Kray’s face in two right down the middle. The sound is deafening in his ears, but somehow, it’s exactly what he wanted—no,  _ needed _ —to hear. 

“How was that?” Lio asks, staring down at the two halves with fascination. 

“...I don’t know,” Galo answers. For some reason, he doesn’t feel comfortable admitting that it felt good, even though it was the release he didn’t know he needed. Kray is a horrible person, he knows that now, but he was still the  _ governor _ . 

“This isn’t hurting anyone, you know,” Lio says. “No matter how you think about it, at the end of the day it’s just a piece of paper.”

Galo frowns. He supposes he’s right. “Here,” he says, handing Lio one of the two halves as he puts on an uneasy grin. “Have at it.”

“Thanks.” Lio holds his breath as he tears the paper in half again, his exhale coming out as another faint chuckle, but this one doesn’t stop for a few seconds. And then he does the same thing again, tearing the remains of the poster into fourths, eighths, until the scraps sit around him like confetti. 

Galo can only sit there and watch, only tearing up his own half when Lio glances at him, likely wondering why he isn’t getting on with it. He’s still unsure even as he walks back into the kitchen and grabs the lighter out of a drawer he hasn’t touched in weeks. He grabs a makeshift ashtray, too, while he’s at it, and opens the window on the way back. Better safe than sorry.

“Do you wanna do the honors?” He asks, holding up the lighter. 

Lio shakes his head. “You go first,” he says. 

“Are you sure?”

“I think you might just be scared.”

“I’m not—“ Galo cuts himself off. Maybe he is kind of scared. He has no reason to be, because like Lio said, it’s just a piece of paper, but as much as he hates Kray now—and even saying he  _ hates _ him feels too strong, too simple—Kray is the reason he joined Burning Rescue, the reason his burning soul was able to shine so bright in the first place. What is he if he throws  _ that _ away?

He shakes his head and tries to clear all that out. Kray is Kray, and now he’s out of the picture. Whatever opportunities he gave Galo over the years don’t change what he did, the number of people he hurt, including the person sitting next to Galo right now. Hell, including Galo himself. 

Galo picks up one of the scraps of paper and flicks the lighter on, the tiny flame dancing in place as the paper starts to burn, lighting up bright orange before it darkens to black and finally disintegrates into ash. He lets it go just as the flame gets a little too close to his fingers, and once it floats down into the ashtray the last piece he’s holding burns up, too. And just like that, it’s gone. 

He turns to Lio, who’s staring at the empty space where the paper used to be, his eyes wide. He doesn’t say anything.

“Um, do you wanna try now?” Galo asks.

“Sure.” Lio takes the lighter out of his hand, fiddles with it for a second, before asking, “How does this work?”

Galo chuckles. “You’ve probably never had to use one before, huh?” 

Lio nods.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you.” Galo puts his hand over Lio’s, guiding it into place. “So what you’re gonna do is take your thumb and roll over the wheel to press that button. You have to be quick about it, though, you’re trying to make a spark.”

Lio tries it once, frowns when the flame doesn’t start. The second time, though, he goes through the motion just a little faster and his eyes light up when a little flame sprouts from the top of the lighter like a seedling. He grabs another piece of pseudo-confetti, a barely-there smile in the corners of his eyes as he sets it aflame. It’s one of Kray’s eyes.

He grabs another one just as quickly, Kray’s shoulder this time, and does the same thing. And as the last sliver burns up into nothing, a laugh bubbles up from the back of his throat, his shoulders shaking as he stares down at the ashtray like he’s not really sure that just happened. 

Galo laughs, too, with even less of an idea why. He’s really only doing it because Lio’s doing it and Lio doesn’t seem like the kind of person to laugh at anything,  _ ever _ , and Lio’s laugh is contagious and he’s confused and doesn’t have any better ideas. 

“Your turn,” Lio says, shoving the lighter back into Galo’s hands. 

“You sure?” Galo asks. “I don’t wanna stop you if you’re having fun.”

Lio stares at him for a second, looking almost offended that fun was even part of the picture, before he looks down at the floor, hints of a smile still on his face. There’s something dark in that smile that Galo can’t place. “Is this fun to you?”

Galo has a distinct feeling that “yes” isn't the right answer. “...I don’t know,” he says. “Is it fun to you?”

“Kind of, in the moment.” Lio shrugs. “And then I remember why I’m doing it.”

“What do you mean?”

Lio takes a moment to think before he looks down at the ashtray again, a slow exhale disturbing the dust. “I don’t think Kray’s going to get what he deserves.”

Galo’s eyes go wide. “But he got arrested, he’ll probably spend the rest of his life in prison—“

“Do you know how many sympathizers he has?” Lio asks. “A good portion of the government has the power they do entirely because of him, they’re not just going to turn their backs on him now.” He frowns. “He won’t go to prison, he’ll go to a luxury hotel he can’t leave, and he’ll be there for a few years at most before they let him out for good behavior. He’ll never actually have to think about the weight of what he did, and he’ll never really be sorry.”

“Do you really believe that?” Galo asks.

Lio laughs again, quiet and almost fragile, and Galo realizes what’s sounded so off about it this whole time: He laughs like he’s about to cry. “I know you want to believe that everyone is good at heart,” he says. “But that’s just not how the world works.”

“We’re going to rebuild the world, though, right?” Galo presses. “That was the whole point of all this, wasn't it?”

“Do you know how much work that will take?” Lio asks back. “ _ This _ —“ He glances down at the ashtray again. “This is me pretending that it’s easy, that there’s a one-size-fits-all solution that’ll take only me a couple seconds, when in actuality I’ll probably be working until the day I die and not be satisfied with what I’ve done.”

And in that moment, Galo understands. It’s a distraction. A distraction from how overwhelming all this is, how the work they have to do is only beginning. Burning this poster is just something to make them feel like they’re making progress, even when they’ve barely made any. Especially when they’re both sitting here, well aware that the people who deemed them too tired to work any more are right but not wanting to accept it.

“You know you’re not doing this alone, right?” Galo flicks the lighter on, watches the reflection of the flame in Lio’s eyes. “You have me, and your generals, and the rest of Burning Rescue. You don’t have to take everything on by yourself.”

Lio looks up at him through narrowed eyes, quickly looking away again when their eyes meet, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“And I know it’s gonna be a ton of work,” Galo continues. “Hell, I don’t even know where to start. But we’re gonna keep at it, and someday soon we’re gonna be able to look back and be proud of ourselves.” He grabs another scrap of the poster and holds it out to Lio. “And for now, we’ll just do what we can.”

Lio reaches out, hesitating for a split-second before he takes the paper and holds it up to the flame. His uneasy smile returns as the edges turn black and crinkle up, and he even laughs again once it disappears into the air. 

They go on like this, one holding the lighter and the other choosing which part of Kray to try and forget about. They won’t forget, they probably never will, but with every time they switch who has the lighter, it gets easier to ignore for now. After all, the future isn’t about Kray. It’s about being better than he ever could have been. And yes, the bar is on the floor—hell, it’s practically in the  _ basement _ at this point—but that way, they’ll have plenty of room to grow, however they want to. 

But they can figure all that out later. 

Soon, the poster is scattered somewhere in the atmosphere and they’re laughing it off. Galo still isn’t really sure why, but it feels better than  _ not _ laughing it off, so he keeps doing it. Lio’s definitely loosened up, too, his eyes softer than they were when he got here, and that’s a good sign. It’s a sign that whenever he decides to go back to work, he’ll be better off than he was before. 

And maybe that’s the point. Not to get anything done but start over.

“...Do you wanna stay the night?” Galo asks, not really aware of what he’s said until the words have already left his mouth.

Lio’s eyes go wide, and the spell is broken. “What?”

“I mean, if you wanna go back, I wouldn’t blame you.” Galo shrugs. “It’s just getting pretty late, and I don’t think anyone would judge you for sleeping through the night.” He grins. “You can take my bed if you want, I’m fine on the couch.”

“Were you going to go back?” Lio asks.

“I was thinking about it,” Galo says. That was his original plan. To stay here for a few hours, just long enough for everyone else on the squad to think he’d slept, even when he didn’t, and then come back to help some more. “But you know what? I think I’m getting to the point where I’m so tired that I start screwing things up. And I don’t wanna do that when there’s so many people who need help.”

“Do they have people working tonight?”

“Yep.” Coincidentally, that’s the first thing Galo asked when Ignis told him to go home. “They’ve got doctors and everything.”

“Oh.” Lio frowns. “That’s good.”

“So what do you say?” Galo asks. “You wanna call it a night?”

Lio thinks about it for a second, glancing up at the ceiling, before saying a simple, “Okay.”

“Awesome!” Galo stands up and stretches his arms back behind him. “I just have to clean up a little and the bed is yours.”

“When did we settle on me taking the bed—”

“I insist!” Galo exclaims. “It’s probably been a while since you’ve slept on an actual mattress, right?”

Lio looks like he’s about to argue, but he nods after a second. “A few months, give or take.”

“Then that’s all the more reason you deserve it!” Galo grins before rushing down the hall into the bedroom, barely noticing the difference in decor. 

But he does notice that the empty wall never looked better.

**Author's Note:**

> bet you weren't expecting this one!
> 
> title: dizzy - swim
> 
> twitter: [@matsuhannah](http://twitter.com/matsuhannah)
> 
> i read crescendo and immediately got really attached to the idea of galo and lio burning a kray poster, and this happened. @betsy i took a few creative liberties but i hope it's still okay <3
> 
> also i hope my characterization didn't fall flat on its face this is my first time writing for a new fandom in 2 and a half years (but grammar mistakes are inevitable considering it's 1am at time of posting and i want to sleep)


End file.
